


Maybe It's Never Really Too Late After All

by caastiiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Destiel - Freeform, Helpful Dean, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, M/M, One-Shot, Season/Series 09, Self-Harm, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caastiiel/pseuds/caastiiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a... particular coping mechanism Castiel had discovered. It was only, really, a matter of time before Dean found out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe It's Never Really Too Late After All

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...just some trigger warnings.   
> I wrote this a while ago but I've decided to upload this first anyways.  
> Read at your own discretion.  
> I don't know.

Castiel clenched his teeth as he dragged the sharp razor across his wrist. Dean had given him the razor. ' _Dean_ ' Castiel laughed at the thought. Dean had no idea that Castiel had being using the razor he had given Cas for this. The ex-Angel had his sleeve rolled up, over the sink. He tried to dig the razor in a bit deeper. Castiel gasped as he saw the blood from the newly-formed cut spill out into the sink. He smiled at the colour of it. The colour of his blood.  _What had he become?_

At first, Castiel had been scared. Scared that he'd cut himself too deep, or that Dean would find out. After all, Castiel was only human. But Dean wouldn't care if he found out what his Cas was doing to himself. He'd probably laugh and tell him he deserved it. This thought cast another gash into Castiel's already dripping with blood arm. Castiel smiled an evil grin. He knew what these thoughts were doing to him. He knew that he didn't have to do this to himself, and he could block out the voices that were making him do this. Castiel knew he had the power to stop. 

_But he didn't._

In fact, as he tore more and more lines into his wrist, he started to forgive himself more. His hatred for his actions in the past had begun to be clouded by his hatred for himself doing this. Castiel felt his old pain dissapear, replaced by this pain that he was causing himself. And he didn't want to stop. Not anytime soon, anyways. So he butchered up his wrists some more. The ends of his trench coat had started to become stained with blood, and soon there was no space left on his forearms to slide his razor blade across. 

Then the door burst open. Not the door to the washroom he had locked himself into, but the door of the bunker that Castiel and the Winchesters had been hiding out in. Castiel heard Dean's voice accompanied by the sound of footsteps and shuffling. 

"Hey, Cas! We're back!" Dean called. Castiel glanced at himself in the mirror, down at his bloody wrists, and at the rolling bandage on the side of the sink. He was frozen in place, though. Castiel was just shocked at what he had managed to do. Scared that Dean would find him like this. So he didn't do anything but let the blood from his forearms drip out into the sink. 

"Cas! Hey man, where are you?" 'Cas' heard Dean call. That's what Dean called him. Cas. And he liked his nickname. 

"Huh." It was Sam. Sam was closeby. "Dean, I think he's in the washroom." Castiel heard more shuffling. More footsteps. Then he could practicay sense their presence outside his door. He started to act fast, and used tissue to wipe off the blood on the surface of his skin. 

Three knocks. "Hey, Cas, you okay in there?" Sam's tired voice asked. The voice was full of concern. 

Castiel's hands stopped wrapping his wrist with the white bandage halfway. Was he okay? Could he really, truly tell them he was okay? Doing this to himself felt...right and wrong at the same time. But he didn't answer them, because he didn't know what to say. 

"Cas, if you don't answer us, we're coming in." Dean spoke with another knock. Cas gulped. He couldn't let them walk in on him like this. "Are you okay in there, Cas?" 

"I'm alright, Dean. I was, uh, taking a shower. I'll be out in a few minutes. Don't worry. I'll be fine." Cas lied. This confidence in his voice. Where did it come from? 

He continued to bandage his other wrist as Dean and Sam said something along the lines of "yell if you need anything" and walked away. 

Five minutes and a clean sink with a hidden razor later, Castiel stepped out of the washroom. He walked over to the other room where Sam and Dean were sitting on a couch, watching something on the television. Actually, Sam was asleep and Dean had a bottle of beer in his hands and was sort of watching. Dean's attention diverted to Cas, who had his hands in his pockets as he was fiddling with a razor in it. (Only Dean didn't know that there was a razor in it) 

"Hello, Dean." Cas said, rocking forwards. He was nervous. 

"Hey, Cas." Dean said, taking a sip of his drink. He gestured at the bottles on a coffee table in front of him. "Want some?" 

Cas nodded, sitting down in the space between the sleeping Sam and Dean sprawled in a corner. He took a moment to recognize how big this couch was. 

Dean opened the bottle, and handed it to Cas. The former angel took his hand out of his pocket and accepted the drink. "Thanks, De-" 

He was cut short by Dean pulling the bottle slightly away from the man who was reaching for the bottle beside him. Dean had his eyes fixed on the ends of Castiel's trench coat sleeves. They were stained with blood. 

"What's with the sleeves?" Dean reached for his friend's arm, but Castiel pulled his hand away towards himself instantly. Dean noticed Cas's other sleeve, that also was bloody around the edges. 

"I'm fine, Dean." Dean looked at Cas with a bit of worry. He wanted an explanation, and an "I'm fine" wasn't going to cut it. Castiel started to think of excuses. Something he could tell Dean. 

"What happened to your wrists?" Dean asked. So he had seen some of the bandage. It was a good thing that his cuts hadn't bled though the bandages. Cas supposed Dean was quite tired to make any connections. 

"I was cold. My arms were cold, Dean. I thought that maybe by doing this, I could make myself feel war-," Castiel was interrupted by Dean's laughter. 

"Cas, there are blankets for that. Come, on take those off. It's ridiculous." Dean took another sip and spit it out because he couldn't contain his laughter. Castiel stood up. 

"Dean, I think I'll be fine. I'm going to get some rest now if you don't mind. You know being human and all. I need sleep." He shuffled and started to walk away. 

And Castiel was going to get away. But Dean didn't want to hear it. 

"Come on, Cas. We only just came-." This time, Dean had stopped mid-sentance himself. He had had his hand encircled around Cas's wrist and pulled him back; to which Cas had yelped in pain.  _Was Cas injured?_

Then he started to draw basic connections. 

"Cas, take off your trench coat. Then I want you to roll up your sleeves, and remove those bandages." Dean said. He was serious this time, and his face said it. Dean set his beer bottle down on the same coffee table and stood up. 

"Wha- why?" Panic had filled Castiel's face. He did not want to do that. Dean would find out what he did to himself. Dean might even leave him. 

"Do it, Cas." Dean demanded as he tucked his hands in his pocket. 

"Why do you want me to do that, Dean?" Castiel asked. His voice was trembling with fear. He did not want to remove his trench coat, and he most certainly did not want to take off his bandages. 

Dean set one of his hands on his friend's shoulders. Cas trembled at the touch. 

"Hey, Cas." Dean whispered softly. 

"Yeah?" Cas asked as he crossed his arms behind his back. 

"Would you like to do what I just said willingly, or...." He paused, sighing at Castiel. "Would you like me to make you?"  

"How about I just get some sleep?" He asked, shrugging. Cas couldn't let Dean see his arms. Dean would...leave him. He'd ask Cas to leave. And Cas  _couldn't_  live without Dean. He didn't want to. 

"What, without dinner?" Dean stated calmly. 

"I suppose so, Dean." Cas nodded. 

"Whatever you say, Cas." Dean spoke, and as if on cue, Sam woke up (or maybe he was never sleeping in the first place) and held Castiel's hands together around his back. Cas struggled against Sam's strong grip. 

"Cas, I'm  _so_  sorry it had to...to be this way." Dean smiled, the smile not reaching his eyes. Cas started to shake with fear.

**_______________________**

"Dean? Sam? What happened to you, is it really....you?"

"Yeah, Cas. It's us. But we were worried for you." Dean nodded, and Sam held his wrists tightly. Cas whimpered. 

Dean proceeded to remove Castie's trench coat, Sam helping him with the sleeves. Then Sam pinned him down on the floor by his arms and legs.

"Cas." Dean said, freezing. 

"Mhm?" Cas said under his breath. He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to make eye contact with Dean. Or Sam, for the matter being. He could feel tears beginning to burn at the corners of his eyes. 

_Just let this be over._ Castiel thought to himself. He shut his eyes tightly, afraid to cry. He didn't want the Winchesters to see him cry.  _That would be...well, shameful_. But it wasn't like they weren't going to see his arms. His arms currently covered in bandage, but vulnerable to their eyes. So he let a tear fall. And them maybe a few more. 

Then Cas felt the weight of one of them leave him, and then another. There was no one pinning his arms down. He waited a few minutes and sat up, and there wasn't anyone in sight. No Sam, no Dean. 

Castiel walked up his room, looking around. ' _Strange_ ' he thought. In his designated room in the bunker, he removed his shirt and then his bandages. 

He looked down to analyze the markings on his wrists when two hands suddenly wrapped around his bare torso. They felt warm. And then a head rested on his shoulder, nose grazing into his neck. It was Dean. The worst part was that the ex-angel felt miserable but couldn't bring himself to cry. Castiel put his arms down his sides. Dean had found out.

"What the hell, Cas." Dean whispered softly. It wasn't fueled with rage - just sorrow and confusion. Dean didn't understand. But could Cas really expect him to? "Why?"

"Dean, you should go. I'll pack the few things I have and I'll leave -," Cas was distracted by Dean spinning him around and lightly grabbing his wrists. His once clean wrists.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight." Castiel gulped and looked into Dean's eyes. The green eyes that were filled with tears. Dean's hand cupped Castiel's face and smiled sympathetically.

"What happened to you, man? Where are you?"

"Dean, I'm st -"

"Dammit Cas! We're family! We look out for each other, we help each other. We don't do this to one another. We don't do this to ourselves!" Castiel tried to cower his head in shame. Dean just didn't understand. Castiel chocked out his next response.

"Dean...Dean, I-I'm s-sorry." he said as Dean embraced Cas in a hug. Cas could feel a warm tear roll down his back.  _Dean was crying_?

"I know how hard it is man. We've got some pretty messed up lives. But you've - you've got to stop, Cas." Cas held on to Dean a bit tighter and let his head rest on the hunter's shoulder. Tears were beggining to freely flow from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Cas managed to mouth onto Dean's shoulder. It was hardly above a whisper.

"Dean?" He asked as he slowly pulled away and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Dean, why do you care so much?"

"Why do I.… You don't fucking get it, do you Cas?"

Castiel shook his head, he was used to missing out on things. 

"Man, I love you."

"Dean, you what?"

" _I_ , Dean Winchester, love  _you_ , the angel."

"After all I've done? I'm a fallen angel! And you're…" He fought back the urge to say that he was beautiful.  _Really, who wouldn't fall for Dean Winchester?_  "You can't love me, Dean. I'm not going to let you do that."

Dean looked at Castiel's scars that decorated his forearm. And he raised his lips to them, finding his way up to the lips on Castiel's face.

"Dean? What are you -" he was cut off by the force of Dean's lips against his own. It felt so right. Although Dean shouldn't love him. Castiel pulled a way with a gasp.

"You shouldn't love me, Dean. I'm not worth you." Dean just shook his head.

"You're right, Cas. You are worth so much more than me." And this time, when Dean leaned forward to kiss Castiel, he leaned in a bit too and returned it.

And Cas realized something.

He really, really, really did love Dean Winchester. Who would've thought?

**Author's Note:**

> I still don't even know what state I was in when I wrote this.   
> It was like three in the morning I might have been high or something?!??


End file.
